


Delicate Diplomatic Relations

by loki (lokigurl)



Category: Parks and Recreation
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-28
Updated: 2012-11-28
Packaged: 2017-11-19 18:31:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/576364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lokigurl/pseuds/loki
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A little S4 snippet, post-"The Comeback Kid"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Delicate Diplomatic Relations

“Can you get the button, the one at the back of my neck?”

Ben squinted, then released the button from the satin loop. It opened up the back of her white gown a little wider, and he pressed his lips to the base of her neck. His hands slid up her sides but Leslie wiggled out of his grasp.

“I need to get this wig off, it’s making me really itchy.” She darted away and up the stairs. A few seconds, she called down, “Check that the door is locked? Thanks!”

He clicked the lever over, then jiggled the doorknob. Both locked. Shrugging out of his coat, he draped it over the couch and readjusted the holster that had shifted from his hip. The whole couples costume thing for Ann's half-birthday party wasn't Ben's idea, but when he'd found the authentic reproduction of Han Solo's outfit hanging in kitchen one morning, he came around to the idea real quick.

“Ben?”

He turned around and when he saw her, his legs started to give out. Stumbling backwards, he fell into the door and flattened his hands against it for support. Leslie wasn't dressed as Princess Leia, except, she was, and it was all her.

“Is it okay? You look weird. I should have worn the other wig, right?" Her blonde hair, having been pinned up all night beneath a black double-bun wig, fell around her face in utter disarray. Like she'd been on the run and yanked it out of a braid with one hand, wielding a DL-44 blaster pistol with the other. "I got it, Ann made me get it. I can run upstairs.”

“Don’t go,” he creaked out.

“Is it ruined because I’m not wearing the neck-cuff-thingy? Because, really Ben, as much as I love you, I’m not being lead around on a chain. And while I’m ruining all of your fantasies, I’m also not –“

“Stop. Just. Stop.”

Leslie cocked her head, taking in his reaction. She really thought he’d be more excited but he hadn’t moved from the door since he turned around. She planned this whole sexy seduction for weeks and practiced walking in this outfit ( _with a sweatshirt on, because what if someone looked in the window?_ ) all afternoon.

But Ben didn't look like he was in any state to be seduced, and she was starting to feel like an idiot. This was a bad idea, a terrible horrible idea and now he was going to tell everyone how ridiculously unsexy she turned out to be, and screw this, it was time to put on her pajamas.

“Okay, this was obviously a bad idea.” She blinked away a couple of tears, furious that they had appeared. “Can you please stop looking at me like I’m an idiot? I get it. You don’t… Me. Forget it, let’s just go to bed.” 

Leslie dropped her eyes, then rubbed her arms briskly – was the house this cold before? Or did humiliation make your body temperature drop twenty degrees? “I’m going to bed.”

Leslie refused to meet his deer-in-headlights stare anymore tonight, so she didn't see Ben finally move from the door and across the room in three swift steps. He grabbed her hand before she could get to the second step and spun her around. Her cheeks were still red from embarrassment but something else captured his attention.

"I can't believe," Ben whispered, his hands rounding the hard plastic gold of her bra. His fingertips skimmed over her ribs, down her sides and stopped at the dip at her hips. Leslie stayed still, but the feel of his thumbs just below her bellybutton made her inhale sharply. 

Ben leaned in closer, pressing his forehead to hers as he gripped Leia's belt around Leslie's hips. His thumbs went lower, dipping beneath the belt and brushing against the thin fabric that hung between her legs. "God, I can't believe that you. You."

"Do you, do you think it looks okay?" Leslie asked nervously. Because while he seemed to like this version of Princess Leia, this night was not going the way she'd planned at all. First he gaped at her, now he kept saying that he couldn't believe something. Like maybe she'd ruined this fantasy they'd never really talked about.

"Okay?" Ben stepped back, confused. He tucked her hair behind her ear and nudged her chin up with his finger. "Do you have any idea how amazing this is, how beautiful you are?" He traced over the strap holding the bra up, curling his fingers into her shoulders. He kept trying to meet her eyes but it was increasingly difficult to look in one place when his own personal Princess Leia-Leslie was right here in front of him. Who he could actually touch, and who would touch back. "And you did this for me?" 

That last question was so quiet, so full of disbelief that Leslie almost started to cry again. His face was full of awe, like he'd just been rescued from some carbonite hell to find an angel before him. _A SEXY angel_ , Leslie corrected. Except Han Solo couldn’t see for a while when he'd been released, Ben had explained to her, so there had to be a lot of touching. He liked to explain that part a lot. 

Before she could say anything, Ben's eyes darkened with lust and he kissed her, pulling her flush against him. When his hand slid over her hip and around her back, he groaned when realized how accurate her costume really was. Leslie giggled, finally relaxed as she pushed his vest off and undid his holster. She didn't want anything else in the way of her and the extra-tight pants she'd special-ordered. The plastic belt was enough. She ground against him, feeling the fabric of her skirt give way.

"So, what are you thinking now?" She breathed.

“That I really want to tell Benji Wyatt that it’s all going to be okay. Better than okay," Ben said, slipping his hand under her skirt. He bit her earlobe when she laughed. "Like, a hundred parsecs past okay.”

"Careful there, fly boy," Leslie said, reaching behind her back and took aim with a Defender sporting blaster. “I kept my gun from the other costume – to take care of scruffy-looking nerf herders like you.”

"Seriously. Better than anything he could have ever imagined."


End file.
